


Underground

by forevermyplayground



Category: GOT7
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-29
Updated: 2016-11-13
Packaged: 2018-08-27 19:21:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8413603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forevermyplayground/pseuds/forevermyplayground
Summary: They’re the stuff of nightmares, the things that go bump in the night. They walk among humans undetected.They are the children of the Underground, and he is the unwilling newest addition to their world.





	1. Foreword

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing and noone except for this storyline/plot.

 

_“Inside every angel a demon hides, and inside every demon an angel strides.”_

 

**He lives in the shadows and his soul is as black as the sun is bright.**

He answers only to the Council of Elders, and seldomly so.

He sits on a luxurious throne carved of the purest ivory and heavy ebony wood with a soft velvet cushion, all stained black to match his soul.

He wears not a crown on his head of hair the color of the darkest night, but a ring on his right ring-finger to signify his power.

A ring of black titanium carefully molded into the claw of a dragon, its scaly fingers wrapped around a diagonally set 1-inch rectangular cut diamond that glows blood red.

For he is the sovereign ruler of the Underground.

**They call him the Black Emperor.**

**********

**He is a child of darkness living in the world of light.**

He is the only son in a family of three daughters born to a professor and a homemaker.

He’s different from the other children and becomes a social pariah by age 5.

With hair like the sun, almond shaped eyes glowing a bright sapphire blue, and a golden birthmark seared into the skin on the back of his left hand.

Though his parents and siblings grow and age around him, he maintains his youthful features.

For though he walks among them, he is not human.

**They call him a Deviant.**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know. I already have one story up that needs updating so why am I posting another one already? Think of it as place holding. This idea came to me, I love it, and I want to make sure nobody else comes up with the exact same idea in the meantime.


	2. The Black King and his Deviant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our Deviant finds his world turned upside down and inside out as he is brought before the Black Emperor.

It’s a Tuesday when life as Mark knows it is flushed down the metaphorical closet.

Cold seeps into every pore of his body as he stumbles through what he can only assume is a damp dungeon passageway, because the suffocating sack over his head has left him blind.

The chains around his hands and ankles rattle loudly as he trips over what he hopes is a rock and goes crashing to the ground.

He barely has time to feel the cool wet bricks pressed against his cheek through the rough fabric of the sack over his head before he’s yanked roughly to his feet and a heavy hand shoves him forward.

“Keep going! We’re almost there!”

“Where is ‘there’ exactly?”

“You’ll find out soon enough, peasant. Now move!”

He stumbles for a few more feet before pausing at the sound of large heavy doors creaking open.

Then that same heavy hand is at his back again, shoving him through the doors and dragging him forward a few more steps.

Without warning he’s forced onto his knees and told to keep quiet on the pain of death.

Somewhere to his immediate left, the voice that’s been shouting at him gruffly since he was taken turns smooth and drips with honey.

“My liege.”

Another voice, somewhere directly in front of him at a distance, answers back lazily.

A smooth baritone voice that sends a zing of pleasure and warmth right up his spine, despite the ice dripping from it.

“Sungjin. Back from your daily wanderings, I see.”

“Yes, my liege.”

“I see you have a new pet.”

“A gift for you, my liege. From the Western borderlands."

“China, Sungjin. Just say China. It hasn’t been the Western borderlands since my grandfather was on the throne three centuries ago.”

“Very well, my liege. A gift for you, from China.”

“So you traveled to China and back in a day, did you?”

“No, my liege. The boy is from China, but he was found near the oceans of the East yesterday morning.”

“Busan, Sungjin. Busan.”

“Yes, my liege.”

“Well, let’s have it then. I don’t have all day to sit here and chat with you. There’s an irritatingly uncooperative prisoner that needs my attention.”

“Yes, my liege.”

He lets out a quiet gasp as the sack is roughly and unceremoniously ripped from his head, sucking in greedy lung fulls of the cold fresh air that smacks him in the face.

His vision, blurry from being submerged in darkness for so long, takes precious minutes to focus and when he looks up all the air that he’d just breathed into his lungs floats right back out of them.

The room around him comes alive with hushed whispers from every direction, but all he can seem to focus on is the man sitting lazily on the black throne ten feet in front of him.

The man with inky black hair swept back from his handsome face, and smoky brown eyes that seem to be studying him indifferently.

Or at least, they are indifferent until they fall to his hands and then his eyes flash a sinister amber color that makes him shiver.

“Sungjin?”

“Yes, my liege?”

“Have you a habit of taking out your anger on my gifts?”

“No, my liege.”

“Then why is the boy covered in bruises? And why is there an imprint of your hand on his cheek?”

“He was being uncooperative, my liege.”

“I see.”

“My liege?”

That previously icy but smooth baritone voice turns menacing as he address the man named Sungjin.

“Which hand is your dominant, Sungjin?”

“The right one, my liege. Why do you ask?”

“Then I shall take your left as compensation.”

“My liege! But- I don’t understand!”

“Clearly, you don’t. Look at his hand, you dolt. The sigil.”

The man named Sungjin drops his gaze to his captive’s dirty hands and Mark finds himself doing the same, staring curiously at the gold birthmark on the back of his left hand.

The trident with a circle through the center and score marks on the outer prongs that’s plagued him since the day he was born.

“My liege?”

“He’s a Deviant, you idiot. Not only that, he’s the last of his kind and you’ve damaged him! On top of which, you’ve chained him up like a dog!”

“My liege I... I didn’t know! Please forgive me!”

“Enough. Putting aside that he’s one of us, and one of the rarer species, you know my policy on harming those we take into our custody. Unlike what the humans think of us, we are not savages who beat first and ask questions later!”

“I- I’m sorry, my liege! I don’t know what I was thinking! Forgive me!”

“Clearly you weren’t using that pathetic excuse for a brain of yours at all. Which is why I’ll be taking your left hand as punishment.”

“My liege, please!”

“You there, guard! Bring this idiot to Chansung and tell him I want the fool’s left hand severed for crimes against the royal family. Then take him to the dungeons and tell Chanyeol to leave him in there for three days with limited feedings.”

“My liege, please! My liege!”

The man named Sungjin’s cries are muffled by the heavy iron doors closing behind him as a guard drags him off to parts unknown.

With his captor taken away, Mark’s shoulders sag in relief.

Or they would, if the man on the throne wasn’t staring at him like some sort of grand prize.

“What is your name, boy?”

“M-Mark, your highness. My name is Mark Tuan.”

“Not that one. The one you were born with. Your _real_ name, if you please.”

“Yien, your highness.”

“Yien. How fitting.”

“Thank you?”

“Tell me, Yien, how long have you been amongst the humans?”

“I... I just turned 25, your highness.”

“I see. And you n-- Seulgi, my dear, what are you doing down here? You should be resting.”

In the middle of the interrogation, a woman with feline like features floats into the room from the entrance near the throne, wearing a floor length white gown embroidered with gold at the empire waist, the off-shoulder neck, along the outer edge of long drape-like sleeves, and the hemline.

The flowing silky chiffon fabric is cinched in to reveal ample breasts, and flows gently over the soft swell of her heavily pregnant belly all the way to the floor around her feet, separated only by the long slit up one side that reveals a slender leg every time she takes a step.

The pure white of her dress, accented by the thick string of diamonds and rubies around her neck, contrasts starkly with the long dark curls that fall down to the small of her back making her look like some kind of goddess.

But the ring sitting heavy upon her left ring finger, a white gold scaly dragon claw clutching a giant glaring blood red ruby, tells him that she is in fact the wife of the man on the throne.

A beautiful young woman, nevertheless, whose voice is soft like the clouds.

“My liege. I heard whispers and wanted to come see for myself if they bore any merit.”

The young king smiles in amusement and beckons his pretty young wife forward, taking her ring-bearing hand in his larger bejeweled one when she gets close enough and bringing it to his lips.

“Sungjin brought a gift from his daily wanderings above ground. Tell me, my dear, do you recognize him from your time among the humans?”

When the young woman in white and gold turns to face him, Mark’s breath hitches.

The warm emerald colored catlike eyes with steely gray undertones set in her pale heart-shaped face and accented by smoky eye makeup are too familiar to be a coincidence.

There’s an odd little sparkle in her eyes as she studies him indifferently and settles her free hand over the swell of her belly.

Her full lips, painted a rich and satiny deep red, curve into the faintest smile.

“I do. We lived in the same neighborhood and attended the same school for a time. Such a beautiful boy, always so gentle and quiet. But so very lonely. Misunderstood by those around him.”

“Anna?”

“How impertinent. The Anna you speak of no longer exists. She is Kang Seulgi, the White Queen. My wife and the mother of my children, both in this world and unborn. You _will_ address her properly, boy.”

Anna, or White Queen Seulgi, turns to her husband and squeezes his hand gently.

The expression on her face remains ever stoic despite the warmth glowing in her eyes.

“Jaebum, my love, please. There’s no need for such formalities between old friends.”

“Not in private, no. But then, we are not in private, are we my dear?”

Reluctantly the young queen concedes to her husband’s wishes and turns her curious gaze back to Mark.

“The whispers are true then? He’s one of us?”

“Indeed. It’s interesting that Sungjin didn’t recognize him on sight.”

“We both know he is not the smartest of your generals.”

“Quite true. It was not for his brains that I retained him at any rate.”

“What will you do with the boy?”

A sinister lazy smile spreads slowly over the young king’s face as his eyes rove over Mark’s body. The dark twinkle in his eyes makes his stomach twist unpleasantly.

“I’ve always wanted a pet.”

“My liege! It is bad enough that the humans regard us as animals! Must you do the same?”

“Calm down. You know I didn’t mean it like that.”

“How did you mean it then?”

“I believe I shall take him as my catamite(1). What do you think?”

“If it pleases you thus, I do not mind. Not that you’ve ever needed my permission to do anything anyway. You are the Black Emperor after all.”

“Excellent. Now that the matter has been settled, why don’t you go rest while I talk to our guest, hmm?”

“Yes, my liege. With your permission, I will take my leave.”

“Rest well, my queen.”

As quiet as she came, the young queen withdraws from the room with a curtsy and a final curious glance at the boy from her past.

Not that Mark even notices her floating out of the room.

He’s too busy trying to calm his overactive nerves because this man called the Black Emperor is looking at him like he’s going to devour him.

Perhaps sensing his anxieties, the young emperor leans back in his black throne and waves a lazy hand in the air.

But the amused smile on his handsome face, a smile that should be warm but is as cold as the North Pole, does absolutely nothing to comfort him.

“Relax. I don’t bite... unless you want me to.”

“I... huh?”

“Tell me, Yien. Have you even the slightest idea of what you are? The power you possess?”

“I... no? I’m sorry but I think you’ve got the wrong person. I’m just a medical school student. There’s nothing special about me at all!”

“That, dear boy, is where you are mistaken. The mark on your hand tells me and the world exactly who and what you are.”

“What? This thing? It’s just a stupid birthmark! It doesn’t tell anyone anything!”

“It is more than just a ‘stupid birthmark’ as you put it. It is the Mark of the Phoenix, Yien, and you its bearer. That mark tells me that you are the last of your kind and especially powerful.”

“My... kind?”

“Shapeshifter, Yien. You are a very powerful shapeshifter.”

“You’re crazy. There’s no such thing as shapeshifters!”

“Au contraire.”

The cold smile on his face morphs into a knowing smirk as the young king rises from his throne with a lazy feline grace.

Something about the way he moves enraptures Mark and he watches in sort of a trance as the Black Emperor takes a step forward, cold amber eyes glowing impossibly bright, and then... explodes.

Literally explodes into a billion little black spots that seem to hover in midair where the young emperor once stood.

Then Mark blinks and finds a giant black panther staring him in the face, so close that he can feel the warm puffs of air from its black nose fanning across his face.

“WHOA! WHAT THE HELL!?”

Reacting purely on instinct, Mark launches himself backwards and away from the giant beast literally breathing down his neck.

But this only seems to incite the beast further, its long black tail swaying back and forth through the air idly as it takes one lazy step forward after another.

It keeps moving forward until it has him crowded against the wall, purring in satisfaction as a warm pink tongue flicks out to taste the salty skin at his jawline.

_Delicious._

“What the hell!? Who said that!?”

_I did._

“I’m going crazy. Or this is a dream. A really weird nightmare. That’s what this is.”

_You are not going crazy and this is not a dream. This is your reality, Yien._

Its large snout twitches in amusement as it noses along the column of his neck and then it takes a minute step backward, glowing amber eyes fixed on his face as it erupts in another flash of black.

Just like before the black matter reassembles itself and the Black Emperor appears where the giant black panther once stood.

He appears, kneeling down on one knee with that amused smirk still on his face as he leans forward and takes Mark’s chin between his thumb and forefinger.

“You are a child of the Underground, Tuan Yien. And now, you are _mine_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. A catamite is a term used to refer to pubescent boys who in ancient Greek and Roman times were kept for homosexual practices. Please note that Mark is decidedly NOT pubescent.


End file.
